


The Rightness of Being Wrong

by samwise_baggins



Series: Wrong [1]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Cousin Incest, Gay Sex, Graphic Description, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:01:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26149867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samwise_baggins/pseuds/samwise_baggins
Summary: Pippin gets even more confused about Right and Wrong
Relationships: Merry Brandybuck/Pippin Took
Series: Wrong [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1898938
Kudos: 15





	The Rightness of Being Wrong

**Author's Note:**

> Setting: LotR: After Bilbo leaves, before Frodo leaves.
> 
> Notes: This is the result of a very Impressive story called "The Talk" by "Cleo Calliope". I very much enjoyed that story, and had to write the next bit. Please, read the original, it was wonderfully done! To find that story and many other wonderfully written ones please link to The Library of Moria: http://libraryofmoria.com/

"Come on then, Pip, into the water with you."

Merry stood waist deep in the river, gently splashing his hands back and forth, a sunny smile on his pleasant features. He was dressed only in small pants, his chest bare and glistening with droplets of water as he splashed and called out. Damp dark blond curls dripped around his forehead and ears.

Pip nearly moaned. He was so . . . No! He couldn't think like that, couldn't risk giving away his secret . . . his horrible, unnatural secret. He shouldn't have even agreed to go swimming, now he knew himself, should have suggested something else like raiding Farmer Maggot's crops or climbing in the orchard. Or, at least, he could have suggested they stay in their clothes. That'd have been easy enough. All he needed to do was push Merry in fully dressed, and the other Hobbit might not have stripped at all . . . especially not while Pip was watching, supposed to be stripping himself.

Now, he was truly caught. Merry wanted him to come into the water for a swimming lesson, and expected him to do so in near nothing, like a hundred times before. But, this wasn't like a hundred times before. Now, Pippin knew how wrong he was, and had to hide it from Merry, or he would lose his dearest friend forever. That, he couldn't bear.

Taking a deep, slow breath, hands trembling as he unfastened his trousers and slid them down and off, Pip looked anywhere but at Merry. He could just say he changed his mind and wasn't feeling well. Then Merry could find someone else to play with. Pain seared Pip at the thought of Merry spending his time with anyone else. No, he'd stay . . . and he'd keep his secret so he could keep what little of Merry he had already.

Unfortunately, when one was distracted, it was a bad idea to try to tackle a lesson one has had problems mastering in the past.

As Pip waded into the water, feeling it's coolness lap and flow around him, he lifted his eyes to meet Merry's. The other Hobbit smiled sunnily back and nodded encouragement. Pip drew breath as he felt a small flutter, a breathlessness, shoot through his chest with that smile. Then he tripped.

It was so sudden, neither Hobbit expected it. One moment, Pip was following Merry's smile as the older Hobbit laughed, the next, something snagged on Pip's toes and he was falling into the dark waters of the Brandywine River. He didn't even hear Merry's gasp as the waters closed over his curly head.

His foot was caught, and he started to panic.

As Pippin went under, Merry screamed. Sure, Pip played practical jokes like that all the time, but there had been something of surprise and horror in his cousin's eyes when he went under. That look convinced Merry that this was not a joke. Pippin had gone under by accident, right into the rushing waters of the Brandywine's swift current. Merry waded forward, watching the water intently for Pip to reemerge.

Pip, for his part, struggled to get his foot free, feeling the undertow dragging at him. He'd barely had time to gasp air as he went down, and now the insufficient supply was running low. He had to get up to the surface. Thrashing at the water, hoping Merry could find him, Pippin forced himself lower to reach his foot. He felt the edges of his world going fuzzy, and his lungs ached. Then, his foot was free, and the undertow was dragging him along.

Somehow, the young Hobbit got his head briefly above the water, gasping a lungful of much needed air before he was swept down once more. Tumbled and driven about by the rough waters, Pippin felt himself scraped against the jagged rocks on the riverbed. A sharp fire sliced through his belly and pelvis, and he gasped, taking in water. He started to black out with pain and lack of air.

The feeling of someone grabbing onto his curls startled him into wakefulness. Pip was dragged quickly to the surface, his head forced up and held there. A strong arm went around his waist, pulling him close to a muscular Hobbit body. He coughed, trying to breathe and clear his lungs all at once. He was weak, unable to hold onto his rescuer, as he was dragged towards the shore.

"Oy! Pip! Come now, lad, I've got you." Merry's voice washed over him, strong and sure, causing Pippin to shudder in relief. He continued coughing as Merry tugged him onto the river bank, amazingly barely a couple of meters from where they'd dropped their clothes at the beginning of this adventure.

Pippin lay on the grass, his coughing subsiding as Merry stroked and patted his back, making encouraging noises all the while. When he could finally gather enough strength, Pip flopped over, onto his back, and let out a choking sob. He wanted to hug Merry and kiss him and thank him for rescuing him all together. He moved to touch his friend, tell him of his joy in just being alive, when Merry's gasp made him pull back.

"Peregrin Took! You're bleeding!"

Pip tried to sit up and see, but he winced, gasping at the fire along his pelvis, and fell back to the grass, shaking. "I got cut on the bottom . . ."

"I can see that, you fool! Stay still, now, and I'll tend you." Merry got up, Pip's eyes following him, and delved into the picnic basket they'd brought for elevensies. He came up with several cloth napkins and some kite string, though why he'd packed kite string was anyone's guess. The Brandybuck heir then scooted close to Pip's side, reaching for his younger cousin's short pants.

"Merry!" Pip was stunned. "What are you doing!"

Merry grunted and shook his dripping curls. "You're cut below the waistband, Pippin. I'm going to bandage you up. Now lie still, like a good Hobbit, and let me tend you." He pulled the waistband low, barely concealing Pip's member, in order to work on the nasty gash.

Flushed, Pip closed his eyes in embarrassment. Merry's admonition reminded him of the words his father had used not two weeks previous. _'Unnatural . . .'_ he'd said. _'Impossible . . . Wrong . . .'_ Pip wanted to sink down in the ground and hide, or tell Merry not to touch him. Merry didn't deserve such an . . . unnatural friend. But, Pippin couldn't give up Merry, no matter how wrong he was to want his Brandybuck cousin. He couldn't lose his best friend in the entire Shire . . . the entire world.

"Ah, Pip . . . look at that . . . I'll need to be cleaning that before I can bandage you. Hold still a bit, cousin."

With those words, Pip's eyes opened, and he watched Merry grab a mug from the basket and head for the riverside. Filling it quickly with the cold liquid, Merry was back at Pip's side before the younger Hobbit could think to cover himself and roll away. Then, it was too late, for Merry'd start asking why Pip didn't want to be helped. And that was something Pip couldn't tell him.

Merry gently poured a bit of water over the gash that ran across the place Pip's hips met his body. He used one of the napkins to try to clear away grit and stone, but grunted as Pip wiggled and his waistband slipped up into the way again. "Pip! Stay still! You've just messed me up."

"I can't help it, Merry, that hurts!" Pip wiggled again, reaching to pull the band away from the gash, but to keep it covering his lower parts.

"Well, you'll have to help it, now. I'm not bringing you home bloody and bruised without at least trying to mend things. They'd throw me out on my ears, Pip! Then who'd help me plan my next Birthday?" Merry moved Pip's waistband down once more and started trying to wash the injury again.

Pip wiggled. The cloth slipped up. Merry let out a grunt of annoyance and worry. "Pip!"

Tears coming to his eyes, Pippin looked pitifully at Merry. "I can't help it, Merry. I really can't! It hurts so I can't stay still when you do that. Those stones are deep." He blinked, ashamed that he was crying, but more ashamed that Merry should see him.

With a sigh, Merry reached over and rubbed his thumbs over Pip's cheeks, wiping the tears away. "Ah, no, Pip. I'm sorry. It's my fault you're hurt. I knew you've not been well recently. Your Da told me so, but I thought it was just cabin fever. I thought with all the rain, you were aching for a bit of a romp. I didn't know you'd gone sick enough to be tripping about like a Gamgee."

Pip couldn't help it. He giggled, gasping as Merry again stroked his cheek. He lifted his green eyes to meet Merry's gray ones. "Merry?" But he didn't finish the question, as Merry bent over and kissed him lightly on the forehead.

"Rest now, Pip. Let me take care of you." Then, Merry was pulling away the waistband again, and Pip bit his bottom lip, knowing he wouldn't be able to stop from wiggling all over again. But this time, those normally shining brown eyes opened wide in confusion, and a bit of fear, as he felt Merry draw the short pants down from his waist, and keep going. He was unclothing Pip!

Pip gasped and wiggled, reaching for his pants, but was stopped by Merry's hand. "Oh, Pip, don't be so daft. It's nothing I haven't seen a hundred times before. These things keep getting in the way, so I've found a solution." And with that, Pippin's pants were lying in a wet heap to the side and Merry was once more reaching for water mug and napkin.

This time, however, Pip barely noticed the pain. He was more aware of the fact that the warm sun was beating down over his body . . . over parts that didn't often feel the sun. He felt the touch of Merry's capable hands, stroking and washing at his body, trying to cleanse the deeply dirt-ingrained gash. And, he was starting to lose himself in the fact that it was Merry touching him . . . nobody around but Merry.

Pip closed his eyes, hands bunching into fists, and tried to concentrate on the bird song and river sounds. He couldn't think about what Merry's touch was like. He couldn't let himself enjoy that soft worry in Merry's eyes, or reach out to stroke Merry's cheek the way he longed to do. He was wrong . . . and Merry would know it if Pip even opened his eyes.

Merry looked up briefly, noticing how Pip went from pale to flushed to pale again. He frowned, looking back at his work, wondering if Pip was going to pass out. The pain had to be great for Pip to be reacting so oddly. He seemed not to want Merry to touch him . . . had seemed to withdraw into himself these past few weeks, though Merry couldn't figure out what he'd done wrong for Pip to react that way.

Then, after long, painful minutes, the wound was clean, though bleeding freely. Merry gave it a last gentle swipe with a clean cloth then pressed another one over the gash. Reaching down and behind Pip, he started circling the kite string around his friend's waist. His intent was to fold half the napkin over it, like a sheet out to dry, then to tie another one or two loops around his cousin, to ensure the makeshift bandage stayed in place until they got home to Brandyhall.

As he leaned down, needing to almost press his face into Pip's good hip to reach around him, Merry's breath caressed over the younger Hobbit's skin. He stilled as he became aware of an unusual reaction in his cousin. Looking down, Merry blinked, watching as Pip became hard. He quickly shot a look up to Pip's face, but the other Hobbit merely kept his eyes closed tight, along with his fists, his face burning red.

Merry realized that Pip must be embarrassed by his body's reaction to Merry's hands and breath. He sat back wondering how to defuse the situation before Pip started avoiding him in his embarrassment. So, he gently chuckled. "Sorry 'bout that, Pip. I'm almost done then you can relieve yourself. I forgot what skin and breath do to a young Hobbit."

Pip's body jerked at the words, but didn't relax; Merry went back to his bandaging, keeping his eyes averted from Pip's shaft as much as was possible. Finally, he nodded and patted Pip's bandage gently. "Right as rain. Go ahead Pip. I'll just lay out the elevensies until your done."

Merry moved to stand, but noticed Pip's head shake a negative reply. He frowned and knelt down again. "Pip, what's the matter? I told you how to do that . . . it happens all the time. Go ahead . . ."

Pip shook his head again, face flaming hotter. He didn't dare open his eyes or move or even almost breath. He knew Merry had seen the erection, but maybe if he ignored it, Merry'd give up. His friend was being nice, saying it was normal, but Pip knew better. It was not just skin and breath that did that to him . . . it was Merry, himself. And it was horribly, horribly wrong. Pip didn't dare move, or he might give away his secret even worse than he'd already done. And them Merry would hate him.

Merry reached over a gentle hand.

He gave Pip a reassuring grin, then started. It was odd feeling Pip's, rather than his own. They were so alike, yet so different. Merry hadn't intended to watch as he helped his friend, but somehow he couldn't help it. He wanted to see what Pip's reactions were.

Pippin moaned low, desperately. He felt like he was drifting on a sea of sensation. All thought of his injury and near drowning were overwhelmed by the touch of Merry. He found himself watching Merry's face as he worked. The very feel of Merry's hand made Pip's head spin, and he wanted nothing more than to draw his cousin down in a lingering kiss and to tell him that he loved him. He groaned again.

With a slight smile forming, though Merry was unaware of it, the blond Hobbit continued. He suddenly wanted to feel his friend's finish. He looked up to Pip's face, and drew in his breath at what he thought he saw in that soft green gaze.

As Merry's eyes met Pip's, the young Took felt himself tense. He moaned. He broke the silence with a breathy, "Oh . . . oh . . . oh! Merry . . . I'm going to . . ." And then he was. Slowly, eyes still locked together, Merry released his friend, and sat back on his heels.

Long moments passed and time seemed to stand still, hanging between them like a soft breath. Merry blinked, then got to his feet without a word. Pip turned his head to watch the other Hobbit as Merry refilled the mug with cold river water, washed his hands, and returned. Then, using the last napkin, he proceeded to gently wash Pip's body, careful to get any trace of their last few minutes off of Pippin's skin and bandage.

Pip couldn't close his eyes through the entire procedure. He merely watched, silently, as Merry first cleaned him, then carefully dressed him in his dry clothes, leaving the bundle of wet short pants aside for bringing back to the Hall. Then, he nodded, and quietly spoke. "Can you get up, Pip, or do I carry you?"

It was such a normal question, and Merry was acting as if nothing wrong had happened between them, nothing unnatural about their behavior. Pip slowly sat up, drawing in a shaky breath, and finally looking away, down, anywhere but at Merry. "I can walk." His voice sounded strange to his own ears.

Merry nodded, getting to his feet and cleaning up the supplies they'd used, bundling Pip's short pants around the bloody and . . . otherwise coated . . . napkins. "Well, up with you then, Peregrin Took." And he was offering a hand to Pip, just like any other time the Hobbit had gotten hurt and Merry had helped. Just like there was nothing different.

Pip used the hand as leverage to rise, then silently walked to the basket and their food. He sat, eating, in quiet thought, trying to puzzle out his own thoughts and feelings, his own reactions. He tried to think through what had just happened with Merry, and the way Merry was acting about it. And, Pip tried to imagine how his father would react or would've reacted. His head spun as he sat there thinking.

How could being so wrong have felt so right?


End file.
